


Impala Auto

by The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Classic Cars, Gen, Human Female Impala, Human Impala, Mentioned Car Sex, POV Third Person, Racism, Restoring Classic Cars, old cars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:44:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian/pseuds/The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Impala is human... she decides to make a living restoring old cars. Sam comes around to see how she's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impala Auto

Impala shut the hood of the baby blue Mercury Comet with force. She had to do it with a bit of extra force or it wouldn't close. There was something wrong with the hood mechanism. That was the first thing she was going to fix when she got the old girl running again. She grabbed a dirty rag off its perch on the review mirror as she walked around the car and used it to wipe the grease and rust off her hands. She looked at the rag for a moment after she'd done what she could with her hands, shrugged, and used the cleanest looking part of the rag to wipe the sweat off her dark forehead. She ran a hand through her short, somewhat choppy black hair and thought of what she would do for a shower. 

She opened the door of the Comet and slumped onto the blue vinyl bench seat, legs still out of the car. She sighed, watching the ground. She'd have to make a run into Sioux Falls and spend the last of her money on food and water. Being human was exhausting. Impala felt so needy. She was shaken out of her thoughts as a pair of boots entered her vision. She looked up to see Sam Winchester looking down on her with a concerned smile.  


"Hey Sammy," she said, noting how dry her throat was. She often found it easier to talk to Sam than to Dean. It might have been because he had, at some point, been her. It might have been because Dean was so attached to his car he found it difficult to be polite around New and Improved Impala. Or maybe Sam was just easier.  


"Hey Impala," Sam said, opening the driver's side back door of the Comet and sliding in. He sat in the back seat like he was ready to go for a ride. Impala turned so her could look at him. "Are you really not gonna find a more human name?" Sam asked.  


Impala furrowed her brow, "What's wrong with Impala?" she asked.  


Sam scoffed, "Isn't an impala some kind of gazelle or something?"  


"You know what else it is? A kind of car made by Chevy. And what I've been called for almost fifty years. So no, I'm not gonna find a more human name," Impala snapped.  


"Sorry," Sam said quickly. "I didn't mean to insult you."  


Impala laughed and looked out of the car again. "Bet you never thought you'd say that to your car."  


"Me? No. But I'm fairly sure I've caught Dean saying it. I mean back when you actually were a car," Sam said with a smile.  


Impala laughed again, "Yeah he had an unhealthy emotional attachment to me. How's he handling my leaving? Pretty sure he was still in shock when I left for this place."  


Sam chuckled, "I think Dean's honestly bummed he didn't have sex with you when he had the chance."  


Impala shook her head, "I don't think so. Of all the skanks who's naked bodies came in contact with my back seat, very few were black. Personally, I think your brother is a bit of a racist deep down."  


"Nah," Sam insisted, "I've seen him with a few black chicks."  


"Yeah, but Dean fucks everyone. He makes a few exceptions, but most of his back seat girls were hot and white with long wavy hair. Once he'd done all of those he moved on but Dean totally has a type."  


"True," Sam agreed. They were both silent for a moment. "So what are you doing out here?"  


Impala looked at the interior of the Comet and smiled, "I'm fixing cars up."  


"That's fairly poetic."  


"I'm helping my sisters in need. Or... cousins I guess. Members of my species? I don't know. Either way, I'm helping them. You boys save people, I'm saving cars. Saving them from rusting and rotting until there's nothing left. I'm going to sell them. Give them another chance to rip around corners and to hit 100 and to kick up dust in their wake," Impala smiled nostalgically.  


Sam smiled too. "Where are you living? Bobby's house burnt down years ago."  


Impala nodded, "It did. I sleep in the car I'm working on. It works out with oldies like this. You wouldn't believe how comfortable bench seats are to sleep on. Well... I guess you probably know."  


Sam furrowed his brow, "You're sleeping in cars?"  


"Yeah, but once I get some money I'll start on Bobby's house. There's still a foundation-"  


"And how are you getting money?"  


"I'm gonna sell the cars once I fix them up."  


"Yeah I know that's what you're going to do, but how are you getting money right now? Money for food and other basic necessities?"  


"I'm not," Impala said softly. "I've been living off what you boys gave me when I left."  


"You're eating though right? You're stealing or something?"  


Impala shook her head. "I wouldn't steal."  


"You have to eat!" Sam insisted.  


"I am! I've been making the money you gave me last."  


"You're human now, you've got to eat and drink water and sleep _in a bed_!"  


"Oh- like you boys sleep in a bed every night. How many nights have the two of you taken turns driving while the other sleeps?"  


"I guess you're right," Sam said. "Remind me, before I go, I want to give you some money."  


"Oh, no that's alright, I'm doing fine."  


"Bullshit. I'm going to give you some money. I mean come on, you know Dean wouldn't want this. He took such good care of you!"  


"I do not belong to Dean," Impala said with a dangerous expression. "And that son of a bitch beat a hole in my trunk. How many times were my windows smashed out? When you got in that crash, he replaced so much I'm barely me anymore!"  


Sam scoffed, "He did what he could. You were always so shiny. He loved you and you know it."  


Impala rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever," she took a deep breath. "Did you boys ever find a ride?"  


Sam shook his head, "Carjacking mostly. We're looking for something a little more permanent. You got anything?"  


Impala smiled, "Well what about this old girl?" she asked, getting out of the car. Sam did the same. She started to get excited, the Comet could have a home... "1964 Mercury Comet. Four door. Little 200 cubic inch engine. Not in the best of shape right now, but... when I'm done with her she'll look, feel, and run like new. This is gonna be one hot ride. She'll look a bit like me, honestly," Impala started walking around the car, "A bit shorter and no fastback- which personally, I think is better. But I mean, look at that grill. Just add the _Chevrolet_ and it looks just like mine did."  


Sam smiled and nodded, "I can see it. You're quite the saleswoman."  


"Oh!" Impala exclaimed, "Wait 'til you see this!" she reached inside the car and snatched the keys off the top of the dash, "Wait until you see the trunk!" she made it to the back of the car in a few strides. She twisted the key and the trunk popped open. "Just think," she began, "You could fit your arsenal and several bodies I mean look at that."  


Sam chuckled. "I'll talk to Dean. Does it come in black?"  


Impala slammed the trunk and stuffed the keys in her pocket. "She comes in whatever color you want her to."  


Sam laughed, "Thanks. How long until I can buy her?"  


Impala thought for a moment. "I'm doing a full restoration- which you will appreciate in the long-run. She's not exactly in good shape so... give me three months after I get her running."  


"How long do you think getting it running is going to take?"  


"Oh! I am _so_ close! In fact, I'd nearly forgotten," Impala stepped back into the car, drivers side of course. She fished the keys out of her pocket. "I just tweaked a little something and I wanted to make sure that wasn't the little push she needed." She turned the key and the car chugged a few times. "Fuck," she whispered. Then, she pumped the gas a few times and tried again. It chugged a few more times... and started. "Yes!" she yelled. "Yes! Sammy are you hearing this? Ha ha! Fuck yes I did it!"  


Sam smiled wider than Impala had seen him smile in years, "Well... take it out of park. I want to see how my next classic drives."  


Impala laughed and closed her door, rolling down the window. She released the emergency brake and shifted into drive. "Two speed automatic!" she yelled out the window as the car began to roll forward. She pulled out of the Comet's designated space and onto the dirt pathway that served as a driveway for Singer Auto. She hit the gas because idling was getting boring and that baby had three quarters of a tank left. She drove off of Bobby's old property where she'd been taken apart, put together, sanded down, painted, loved, hated, scuffed up and waxed with half a mind never to return. But she thought of Sam standing there and she thought of all the old cars and all she could do for them. All she could do for the little Comet. She turned around and sped back into Bobby's driveway and skidded into the Comet's spot.  


Sam, who had been sitting on a neighboring car waved at her as she arrived. "How was it?"  


Impala just smiled. She opened the door, which creaked a little, causing her to smile more. This car was going to replace her. If not this car, than one like it. Dean would learn to love the Comet, and would forget about his old Impala. It was the Comet, now, that would be ripping around corners and speeding away from small towns before anyone found the body. The Comet would have her plates changed every few years, the Comet would take Impala's parking space in the bunker's garage, the Comet would take Impala's place in Sam and Dean's hearts. They would eventually forget about Impala, and she would live at Bobby's, fixing up old cars and selling them until she died. She would live out a human life, and she would do it alone. Sam and Dean might visit if they ever found themselves in Sioux Falls, but they would get so lost in their family business, they would forget. Jody Mills might come around once every few months, but she didn't have the connection with Impala that the brothers had, she was little more than a stranger. For the most part, Impala would be alone. And she was okay with that. She was retiring to Singer Auto, like so many old cars before her. It was, as Sam had put it, poetic.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... if you couldn't tell by the ridiculous amount of information and the random car... I have a 1964 Mercury Comet which is currently baby blue (and flat black but that's just primer) and will soon be a gorgeous glossy black. I'm restoring it and if you ever meet me in person, never get me talking about it because I will not shut up.


End file.
